


good steel shouldn't go to waste

by shadowcat500



Series: Plaguetober 2020 [19]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Plague Doctors, Plaguetober 2020, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowcat500/pseuds/shadowcat500
Summary: Rian, Dahlia, Nimbus and Kuriko return Celia's sword to her family.
Series: Plaguetober 2020 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948417
Kudos: 1





	good steel shouldn't go to waste

**Author's Note:**

> 19/10 Memento

The blacksmith’s shop sticks out in a little porch-like area on the side of what must be his house, a tall wooden post holding up the wooden roof covering the forge and metals around it. Solidly-built on top of the posts holding it off the ground, Rian mentally notes, probably built to withstand floods from the river just a short walk along the floodplain from here. 

It doesn’t take long for the man bent over the forge to notice them, focussed as he is on his work. (Dahlia is far from easily-ignorable.) They can see the kindly smile on his face even as sweat beads on his forehead from the flames as he waves. “Afternoon! Looking for good steel?” The group walks closer, and he must notice the grim look on their faces as his face drops. “Keep your distance, I don’t want to risk my family getting hurt whether you’re looting or have the disease.”

“It’s… not about that.” Nimbus speaks, surprisingly strong-voiced despite what the delivery they carry consists of.

“Then what?”

“It’s…” Nimbus tries to start, but Rian is the one to pull out the beautiful, razor-sharp blade.

The smith gasps. “Is that…”

Dahlia delivers the report. “Yes, it’s Celia’s. She was a good woman, and a friend of ours. There was a bandit ambush, and she was struck with a poisoned arrow. We couldn’t save her: she was dead less than half a minute after the arrow hit. You have my condolences.”

He stumbles back. The onslaught of the report must be horrifying, especially in these times. Man’s probably heard about the deaths of half his village in similar terms from other doctors. “No. She- my _daughter_ can’t…”

“I’m afraid it’s true, sir.”

There’s a pause, then the smith claps a hand over his mouth and lets out a sob. Another pause, filled with the sounds of Celia’s father’s sobs, is ended by the appearance of a young man around Celia’s age walking out of the connected house.

“Dad, I got— Dad?!” He rushes forth, dropping the bundle of firewood as he sprints towards his father and the group of adventurers, only to stop short when he too recognises the blade. “You… _murderers_ … I’ll kill you!” 

He grabs a sword leaning against the workbench and makes to swing at Dahlia’s head, only to be stopped by Rian’s handaxe catching the blade at the point where the axehead and handle meet. “Don’t stab the messenger. We’re here to honour her memory, not pour salt in the wound.”

“ _Sure_ you are.” He makes to yank the blade out of the block, but Rian grabs it with a leather gloved hand.

“ _We are not your enemies_. Celia was a brave and kind woman, and she was our friend as she was your blood. I’m not going to murder her brother in return for that.”

“Shut up!” He drags the blade out of Rian’s grasp and swings it as hard as he can, only for Rian to dodge out of the way. Decent form: the talent in the family must not have only been Celia’s.

Nimbus tries to break up the fight, but Rian pushes them back out of it as Celia’s brother swings again, then goes for a stab. Rian dodges the swing and blocks the stab in the same way he blocked the first swing, only this time he uses the hold to twist the weapon out of the apprentice smith’s grasp. 

The smith lets out a wheezy gasp from where he stands by Dahlia (and unknowingly Kuriko, who spent the entire interaction hiding behind her) and speaks. “ _Enough_ , Seppo.”

“But Dad-”

“All we have to go on is these strangers’ word, and as far as we know they were her friends. How would they know who we were if they were her enemies?”

“She asked us to return the sword.” All eyes turn to Dahlia, who shuffles her shoulders uncomfortably. Rian thinks he can almost see the fur on her stole stand on end. “At least I think she did. Right before she… passed, she said the word sword and attempted to press my hand onto the hilt. She’d told us about you, her family, and mentioned how her father and brother had both made her sword. It was her most treasured possession.”

“Are you sure she didn’t say ‘yours’?”

“Huh?” 

“My daughter is… was, a generous soul. And it’s a tradition, at least around here, for warriors to give their sword to their closest friend upon death. It’s supposed to be along the lines of protecting them even after death.” 

“It… I’m not a swordswoman, not even close.”

Seppo swallows and speaks. “That doesn’t matter. Tradition’s tradition, you know.”

“I… I’m honoured. Beyond words, I’m honoured. Thank you.”

The smith and his son nod before making to close down the forge for the day and head back inside, probably to start the mourning period.

“Dahlia?”

The doctor stands there, left hand wrapped around the hilt and the blade held delicately in her right. “Rian?”

“Yes?”

“How would I wear the scabbard for this sword?”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah. Celia's dead. Her death will be in the piece I have for the 27th.
> 
> Check out my [ tumblr](https://existentialcrisisetcetera.tumblr.com/tagged/zach%20writes)!
> 
> Comments and kudos appreciated!


End file.
